


Average kinda bond

by DrawingWithGreen13



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: And you can probably guess who, Connor has a not-straight crush on someone, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 17:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrawingWithGreen13/pseuds/DrawingWithGreen13
Summary: Connor calls Evan to an old, abandoned park for a little chat. In freezing cold weather.





	Average kinda bond

**Author's Note:**

> I was definitely inspired by Come and Go with this lol (those who have read the fic know what scene specifically). 
> 
> Why is it whenever I write ships it's never in your face
> 
> (Edit: changed 42 farenheit to 32 fahrenheit because i don't know how temperatures work and i'm british lol)

A park. A park with a rusty swingset and a sandbox, dominated by abandoned shovels and one lone bench who's only friend seemed to be the mold growing out of it. Evan wouldn't think of a more fitting place.

The boy looked around the area, hands buried deep in his pockets to prevent the loss of his digits from the 32℉ weather. He had been tasked with arriving at this place by a friend, and the two would meet for something. That something rang alarms all throughout Evan's ears and head. He didn't like vague. Vague could mean bad things, like someone's grandmother died but they couldn't bring themselves to say it out loud, or they're about to commit a life-sentence crime. Was Evan about to commit a crime?

Noticing that the swingset was empty, he took a seat, and regretted it as soon as he noticed how cold it was. He didn't get up, mainly because he felt like the ice already froze his butt in place. He started swinging.

Cold was nice. Cold gave the leaves a new coat of white glitter glue that melted when touched. Cold allowed you to see parts of your body that you never got to see, and made it look like a pretty cloud, as a plus. Cold helped you cool down when you worked yourself up so much that your hands would melt at least three paper towels from soaking them with sweat. Even as he pushed off of the floor, Evan had the strange subconscious fear that his gloves would be soaked to ruin by his bodily fluids, and then the temperature would freeze his hands to the chains he was tightly gripping. See, the funny thing about anxiety is that you know it's there, you don't like that it's there, yet there's nothing you can do to stop it. Evan couldn't stop the possible thought that he'd need to be taken to the hospital for Emergency Chain Removal.

Another thing he couldn't help was squeaking in surprise when he heard the second swing clang and jangle. He looked over.

"Hey," he breathed, still in shock.

"Hey," replied Connor. His foot was tucked under his thigh, and he was already swinging.

Connor had about seven layers on, Evan deduced. Layers made out of sweatshirts, jackets and a large snow coat on the outside. His boots were heavy and dirty and thin. His pants were, to Evan's surprise, jeans. Nothing thick and heat concealing. Just...jeans.

"...wh- um, where are you gloves?" Evan stuttered, pointing at Connor's deathly bare hands. They tightened a little and turned the knuckles white. Connor took a few seconds to respond.

"My hands are always cold," he started, voice casual. "So I didn't think it'd make a difference."

"Does it?"

"A little. They're cold enough to shake, so I guess that's something."

On closer inspection, Evan could indeed hear the chains rattling abnormally, right where Connor's grip was. He pondered for a second if he wanted to give his own gloves away, but his hands were like a child's compared to Connor's. That, and Emergency Chain Removal would probably be more painful on bare skin.

The swings creaked uneasily as the two swayed back and forth. Back and forth. It was an old park.

"...so," Evan murmured. He was looking at Connor's boots, noticing how scuffed they were. "What did you wanna talk...about?"

Connor stopped swinging, gaze leading off into the Unknown. In reality, he was focusing on a bare tree. "I think I'm going nuts."

"Oh?" sounded Evan. "You, too?"

Connor smiled at that, and huffed a laugh out of his nose. Evan smiled back, but was quiet.

"Not, like, 'I never grew out of my emo phase and kill people' nuts. More like 'I'm feeling things that I'm not used to feeling' nuts."

Evan's body let out a laugh. No wonder he and Connor were friends, he thought. They were pretty much the same person, but with different families and fashion choices.

"Yeah?" he chimed.

"Yeah," Connor mirrored. His smile emphasised the laughter lines on his cheeks. "Feelings like...I don't know, l-love, or something?"

His volume rotted away as he spoke, and Connor suddenly wasn't smiling, anymore. Neither was Evan. The creaks from the chains came to a halt, and the air was filled with chilling silence.

"...love?"

Connor cowered, as if mention of the word from someone else was like a weight. "I don't know, it's- it's weird. Like, maybe, I've had things for people before, and this is just different, or I'm just dreaming, I don't know."

Evan bit his lower lip. It was chapped from the cold. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Connor's voice was soft, and he was sitting up, again. "You can't control my emotions."

Evan followed wherever Connor's 'Unknown' gaze was, and found that this time, he was staring at the sky. At the clouds, specifically. Even with temperature cold enough to freeze wheels, the sky was as blue as summer.

"You ever wonder," Connor spoke suddenly. "Why the sky makes you feel warm, even though it's a cold colour?"

Evan pondered. "I guess. A lot of things make me feel warm, though."

"Because you sweat a lot?"

"Because I sweat a lot."

"Bet you couldn't out-sweat the world's sweatiest man, though."

"Watch me."

Their laughter sent clouds spiralling around their heads, and caused the chains to rattle like maracas in skilled hands. Bonding over sweat jokes. How else would you communicate with Connor Murphy? Maybe a chicken joke, but chickens don't sweat.

Through the laughter and the rattles and the breath, Evan kept thinking about love. About how his friend wanted to bring him to a freezing, abandoned park and talk about something that should have been common in everyone. Familial love? Did Connor not know what that felt like? No, his family and he were getting better. Their bond never truly broke, anyway.

As the silence rose once again, Evan caught himself staring. Connor's face was always ghostly, like he was chosen to be brought back from the dead just to spite him. The frost from the leaves and the sun made his face almost glow, like he were a beacon. What that beacon was calling for, Evan didn't know. He noticed how Connors nose pointed down, and how he could blind someone from how pale he was, and how, even with hair as dark as mud, his cheeks were painted with freckles. Connor was more then a metaphorical anomaly. Was he even alive?

"I'm not blind," the ghost suddenly spoke, not without smiling but most certainly with an air of embarrassment. "It's rude to stare."

Evan flinched. "Oh, s-sorry, I was- I didn't mean- you were just-"

"It's weird." Connor spoke again, embarrassment gone. Or, at least, nullified. Evan raised a brow.

"Huh?"

"I guess...I'm weird in even more ways. Like, this is my first time properly realising that I may like someone. And said someone is..."

He bit his lip, and Evan followed.

"...I think I have this weird, like, not-straight crush on someone."

Evan had to force himself to stay stuck on the swing, so he didn't fall over. Connor liked to drop bombshells, no matter how blunt, and they always surprised the sweatier boy. Oh, god, his hands were sweating more, he couldn't wipe them so his gloves got more soaked.

Connor had a crush. On someone who wasn't a girl. And he thought that it was weird.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Connor shrugged. His mood changes were the most violent whiplash Evan had ever experienced, next to Alana Beck's. "Well, I'm freezing my ass off, and mom's not gonna be happy about that, so I'm gonna go."

Evan swore he could see the fabric of Connors jeans stick to the swing seat just as he rose, but it moulded back to his figure just as quick. He noticed, as Connor brushed the sides of his arms, exactly how much the cold was affecting him. His bones seemed to rattle just as much as the rusty swingset.

"H-hey, Connor?" Evan spoke, trembling a little. From nerves or the cold, he wasn't sure. "I'm- thanks. For telling me, um...I-I won't tell anyone."

Connors eyes met with Evan's for a few seconds and it was as if they were stuck. Stuck in time itself and everything was blurry except for them. Connor was a ghost and Evan saw dead people.

Time resumed as Connor smiled, subtle and a little bit crooked, like he wasn't used to it. "I know."

And like that, he was away, boots crunching hard against the frost laid on the ground. As he walked, Evan watched, still swinging gently. A rhythm. Something he could expect. Even Connor couldn't provide that.

Maybe he was high, Evan thought. Maybe he was high, and what he was saying was something his stoned brain was telling him to say, because it was funny, and it was. It really was funny. Connor? Having a crush on another boy? Ha!

But it wasn't a joke. Evan knew it. And he also knew he was trusted, because Connor wouldn't even tell his own mother that. Evan knew it.

Maybe he really was high. Although, the eyes turned red when you smoked weed, right? Evan didn't see that. He just saw bigger pupils.


End file.
